


No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony

by onvavoir



Series: From Eden [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Past Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Pre-OT3, Revenge Sex, Slurs, Voyeurism, steve rogers: village bicycle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 18:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7585642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onvavoir/pseuds/onvavoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you do when you find out your best friend (who you've recently slept with) also slept with his other best friend?</p><p>NSFW, obviously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony

Sam stretches and yawns as he walks into the kitchen, the light still pre-dawn blue. Bucky's there, sweatpants and tank top, and Sam glares at his broad back. Steve's nowhere to be seen.

"Did you assholes leave any coffee?" he asks.

"Nope," Bucky says.

The carafe is empty. Bucky leans against the counter and sips from a suspiciously full mug. Sam gives him a dirty look.

"It's like you want me to hate you."

"Take it up with your boyfriend," Bucky says. "He's the one who forgot to get coffee yesterday. We coulda made some more if we hadn't run out."

Sam rolls his eyes.

"Boyfriend? What are we, eight years old?"

"Eight and a _half_ ," Bucky corrects.

He pulls a mug off the rack under the cupboard and dumps some of his coffee into it.

"There, happy now?"

"I don't want _your_ coffee," Sam says. "You put too much damn sugar in it."

"Now who's being eight?"

"Dick."

But Sam still picks up the mug and drinks the coffee. He pulls a face at the overpowering sweetness of it. Why bother to drink coffee at all? He gives Bucky a dirty look but takes another sip.

"The retriever out for his morning walkies?"

Bucky nearly spits out his coffee. Sam feels no guilt whatsoever.

"Yeah, he left about twenty minutes ago. Said he was going to the gym and then he had a very important mission."

"That mission had better involve picking up some goddamn coffee. Otherwise I'm changing the locks."

For all the good that would do, given that Steve makes a regular habit of crashing _through_ doors rather than opening them.

"Like hell you would," Bucky snorts. "All he has to do is turn those big blue eyes on you, and you're easy."

Sam straightens up, indignant.

"That is not true!"

Bucky raises his eyebrows over the rim of his coffee cup.

"Oh? Who followed him around for two years like a puppy?"

Sam narrows his eyes. Bucky's trying to get a rise out of him, it's transparent, but Sam still can't help his blood warming.

"Who followed him into a fucking _war_? Weren't me. Besides, at least I've never tried to kill him."

"Not yet," Bucky says. "Give it time."

Sam has to laugh at that, and some of the prickliness that's been building ebbs away. Must be the coffee. Bucky smiles back at him. They still don't exactly like each other, but at least they can commiserate about Steve. Bucky rinses his mug out, washes it, and puts it in the rack, and Sam has to take a moment to appreciate that. Steve's coffee mug is sitting in the sink, half-filled with murky coffee water.

"You think he's got a date tonight? That why he's being all mysterious?" Sam asks.

He's not jealous. Well, not much. For all Steve's ostentatious flirting, the past couple of years have been a little too fraught with danger and treachery to think about anything as prosaic as dating. A couple of quick ones in safehouses and shitty motel rooms, which were a lot of fun but not exactly a foundation for a relationship. Bucky shakes his head.

"I hope he's got several. He needs a goddamn Olympic team. God knows I can't keep up with him."

"You _what_ now?" Sam asks, turning towards him.

Bucky shrugs.

"He's like a fuckin' rabbit, you know? He must jerk off like three times a day."

Sam snorts, because Bucky's right, but Bucky's also just heavily implied something. He raises an eyebrow and looks over his coffee cup at Bucky.

"So you…"

Bucky looks at him. He has to know exactly what Sam's asking, but as per usual, he's being a little shit about it.

"We…"

"You and Steve…"

Bucky shrugs.

"We fucked. It's not a big deal."

"Yeah. I know."

Then why is Sam's stomach tying itself into a knot?

"Why are you looking at me like you wanna murder me?" Bucky asks. "You just said you're not dating."

"Well, no, but. How-- when?"

"A couple of months ago. Did you…"

"Most recently? Three weeks ago."

"That son of a bitch," Bucky mutters.

"What, you're mad because he had sex with someone who wasn't you?"

"No! Well. A little. But I mean, it's _you_. And he never told me!"

At least Sam's not alone in his outrage.

"He doesn't tell you everything, Bucky. He probably knew you'd be weird about it, like you're being right now."

"I'm not being weird."

"Okay, by weird I mean jealous."

"I'm not jealous!"

Pot, kettle, what the fuck ever.

"Uh huh."

"Don't be a dick. Did you know…"

"About you? Not exactly, but I've kinda always rolled with the assumption that you two banged at some point."

"… why."

Sam raises an eyebrow at him.

"Have you _seen_ Steve? Have you _seen_ you? I'd be way more surprised if you _hadn't_ hit that."

Bucky flushes red and looks away with a little smile. Sam smirks a little.

"So's that mean you think I'm cute?"

Sam squints.

" _Cute_ is not exactly the word I would use. You're a little too murderous to be cute."

"Handsome, then. Attractive. Sexy."

"Don't get carried away."

"How come you never tried it on with me then?"

"Have I mentioned how much I hate you?"

Bucky scoffs.

"That's not a reason."

"Because it would be weird, okay? Besides, you'd tell Steve, and then I'd never hear the fucking end of it."

"I don't tell Steve _everything_ , you know. He's not my goddamn confessor."

Sam squints.

"Are you saying you want to have sex with me?"

Bucky turns pink again.

"That's not what I said."

"Well then why are we still talking about this?"

"I hate you."

"Feeling's mutual, cupcake."

Bucky kicks him. Sam kicks him back, harder. They're both barefoot, so it's not much of a scuffle. Bucky shoves his shoulder, and Sam shoves back. Bucky tries to trip him, but Sam hooks his ankle around Bucky's to keep himself upright. In the end, they both go tumbling to the floor. Sam folds his leg over Bucky's metal arm to hold it down, but Bucky rolls and flips, throws Sam onto his back and frees his arm, pins Sam's chest with his elbow. Sam thrashes, gets his leg around Bucky's waist and tries to throw him off. Bucky rolls again, pins him again, sitting on his hips.

"Fuck," Sam mutters.

"Only if you ask nice."

His face is flushed, his hair curtaining around it, and he grins down at Sam.

"I hate you," Sam says.

"Feeling's mutual, sweetheart."

He dives to plant a quick kiss on the end of Sam's nose, which makes Sam squirm and renew his attempts to escape. He tries to buck up and topple Bucky, but the only thing he succeeds in doing is rocking his hips against Bucky's ass. The two of them freeze. Sam's got a bit of a hard-on, and Bucky had to have felt that. He looks down at Sam, frowning. Then his mouth is pressed to Sam's, tasting of too-sweet coffee, and they both catch their breath. Sam's hand grabs hold of Bucky's hair. Bucky makes a low noise in his throat and opens his mouth. His tongue slides over Sam's. His posture relaxes, and then his hips roll against Sam's, coaxing a groan out of him. They grind against each other on the kitchen floor. Sam hooks his leg around Bucky's waist and pulls him in closer. Bucky catches Sam's lower lip between his teeth.

They quiet to gasping breaths and the wet slide of their mouths moving against each other. Bucky's left hand pins Sam's right. Sam's right is still tightly clutching Bucky's hair. Bucky bites at his neck and makes him groan.

"God, I wanna suck your cock," Bucky whispers.

"Jesus."

"Can I?"

"Yes," Sam breathes. "Fuck yes, do I need to let go of your hair."

Bucky's eyes meet his, bright, and Bucky grins.

"Nah."

Sam keeps his fingers tangled in Bucky's hair while Bucky wriggles downward and tugs his sweatpants off his hips. His cock is at full attention now, and Bucky closes his mouth around it with an achingly tender sound. Sam's mouth opens.

"Oh, my _god_ …"

He's said Bucky's name in a variety of tones, but never did Sam think he'd be saying it breathlessly while Bucky sucked his dick like a pro. God _damn_ , the mouth on him. Sam's toes curl, and he tries not to thrust up into the wet heat of it. He taps Bucky on the shoulder to signal that he's not far off, but Bucky stays right where he is. He swallows Sam's dick down as far as he can and looks up at him. It's the hottest thing Sam's ever seen. He comes down Bucky's throat, pinned down by his grey eyes, and then melts into the linoleum of the kitchen floor. He's about to say something, offer something, but Bucky knees his way up and straddles his hips, still eyeing him. He shoves his own pants down and takes himself in hand.

"Oh fuck…" Sam breathes.

"I always wanted to come on you," Bucky says.

It hits Sam's ears like a spark and sets his skin on fire. He licks his lips. Bucky doesn't wait for his approval, just starts stroking his thick cock with his flesh and blood hand. Sam lies there, poleaxed. He watches Bucky bite his lip, watches the shift of his hips as he pushes his own dick into his hand, watches the head emerge and disappear, dripping and flushed. He wants to get his mouth around it. For now, though, he lies back with his hands behind his head and watches the expressions that move across Bucky's face as he gets himself off.

He pushes Sam's shirt up with his bionic hand and traces a metal fingertip down the center of Sam's abs, down to the line of hair below his navel. Sam presses his tongue to his upper lip. He must be close. His hand works faster, he catches his lip between his teeth, and then his eyebrows draw together in something like a frown, just before his face goes slack and he comes all over Sam's belly with a low sigh. He tips forward a little and holds himself up with the metal hand. His eyes are a little glazed as they meet Sam's. He smiles and then heaves himself off to one side and sits next to Sam on the floor.

"Fuck," he whispers.

"Get me a paper towel, will you?" Sam asks.

Bucky laughs and reaches overhead. He drags down a clean dishtowel and throws it onto Sam's stomach. Sam looks at him and then shrugs, uses the rag to wipe off his stomach.

"Fuck you, Steve," he mutters.

Bucky laughs again.

"Wasn't that the whole problem to begin with?"

"I don't know that I'd call it a problem…" Bucky glances at him sidewise. "What. Hey. When you… did you fuck him, or did he fuck you?"

"What kinda question is that?" Bucky asks.

Sam shrugs.

"I'm just curious."

"Yes," Bucky says, and he smirks so broadly that Sam wants to slap him.

"Oh, fuck you."

"What about you?"

"Guess."

Bucky rolls his eyes.

"Knowing Steve, you fucked him and he took it like a champ."

Sam laughs.

"So fucking predictable. But goddamn, that ass."

"Mm," Bucky agrees.

He gives Sam another sly look.

"You look like you're up to no good," Sam says.

"Maybe we should surprise him when he gets home tonight."

The thought makes a new surge of lust roil in Sam's belly. He thinks about Steve, and Bucky… Steve between the two of them, on his hands and knees, one of them fucking him while he sucks the other's dick. Sam's not sure which side he'd rather be on. What he is clear on is how scorching hot the idea is.

"You think he'd be up for it? Or would we freak him out?"

"He'd probably pretend to be shocked. 'You guys want me to do _what_? With… _both_ of you?'"

Bucky's Steve impression is so spot-on that Sam quakes with laughter. He even got the eyebrows right.

"It's cute how he thinks anyone buys that innocent act."

"He's a solid gold slut, make no mistake. Fuck, let's do it."

*

They text him, casually, at intervals, to determine when he's likely to get home, and they make sure they're both on the sofa when he does, opposite ends. Steve drops down in between them with a sigh and pulls off the baseball cap that passes for a disguise. He lifts the fake glasses, pinches the bridge of his nose, and then readjusts them. Bucky smiles. He leans over to look past Steve at Sam. The two of them move in closer, right up against Steve. Bucky noses at Steve's ear and rests his hand on the inside of Steve's thigh. Sam tilts his head to kiss him on the mouth, and Steve sputters.

"What are you… guys…"

He leaps off the sofa and puts up his hands as if they've attacked him. He puts his hands on his hips. Lets them drop. Puts them back on his hips. Sam glances at Bucky. Bucky's arm stretches along the back of the sofa, around Sam's shoulders.

"Are you two fucking with me?"

"Not yet," Bucky says, and he grins at Sam.

Steve blushes from collar to hairline behind his dorky glasses.

"Bucky, that's…"

He looks to Sam for support, but Sam just quirks an eyebrow at him, his lips pursed.

"What did I tell you," Bucky says. "The fucking balls on this guy."

Steve frowns, but less convincingly than before.

"What do you mean?"

His voice is just a little higher up in register than it should be. He knows the jig is up. Bucky kind of wants to make him say it, but then Sam ruins it.

"We _know_ , Steve."

Steve blinks. He looks from one to the other and back again.

"Know what."

Bucky rolls his eyes.

"I know that you fucked Sam."

"And I know that you fucked Bucky," Sam says.

Steve's face reddens. All he can do is look at the floor, like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"There's nothing I can say that isn't going to dig me a deeper hole, is there," Steve murmurs.

"Not really, no," Bucky says.

"Are you angry?"

He dares a glance up from beneath his long eyelashes with those big blue eyes. Bucky snorts.

"Nice try pal, but I've seen that trick before."

"You wanna explain what that's all about?" Sam asks, crossing his arms.

"I-- I'm-- I wasn't--"

Sam raises his eyebrows and glances at Bucky.

"What do you think we should do?" he asks, and he's not talking to Steve.

Bucky pretends to think.

"I think maybe we ought to give him a taste of his own medicine."

Steve blinks. Bucky turns to Sam again and jerks his head as if to say _c'mere_. Sam gets up with a roll of his eyes, and Steve tracks him closely as he takes a step to the right and then straddles Bucky's lap. He's heavy and warm, and Bucky grabs his ass with both hands to haul him in closer. Bucky can feel his breath on his cheek. This close, he can see the curl of Sam's dark eyelashes.

"Guys, this isn't funny," Steve says.

"Who said anything about it being funny?" Bucky asks.

He tips his head to one side, slow enough to telegraph exactly what's going to happen as Sam leans in. Their mouths meet for a brief kiss. Bucky can hear Steve's breath catch. Sam cradles Bucky's jaw with both hands as they kiss again, mouths open this time, and the _frisson_ of teasing Steve melts into the sense memory of earlier in the afternoon. Sam's cock, hot and heavy in Bucky's mouth, all the way into the back of his throat. Sam's mouth and the friction of Bucky's stubble against his beard. His lips, soft and plush and just begging for Bucky to bite and suck. He loses himself in it for a moment. Sam's hips roll against him, and Bucky breathes in deep through his nose. Both of them are half-hard. They neck a little longer, until Steve pointedly clears his throat. Sam pulls away with a smacking sound and looks over his shoulder at him.

"You've made your point," Steve says, still red-faced. "I should have told you. I'm sorry."

"I'm not," Bucky says, grinning.

He leans up to kiss Sam again, messy and wet and audible even to someone without supersoldier hearing. One of Sam's hands grabs his hair and pulls his head a little to one side. Bucky lets it happen, lets his eyes roll up as Sam bites at his neck. His hands move from Sam's ass, up his back, under his shirt, and then he pulls it up, off over Sam's head. He tosses it in Steve's direction and lets his gaze rest there for just a second, on Steve's utterly shocked face, before he turns his attention back to Sam's chest. Dark skin stretched over solid muscle. Bucky nips at one of his pectorals and kisses his way up Sam's throat to his jawline.

"Want me to suck your dick again?" he murmurs.

"Mmn, god, do I ever," Sam says in between kisses. "But maybe something else this time?"

"What, you wanna fuck me?"

He hears another intake of breath from Steve. Sam chuckles.

"Yeah actually, I think I do."

"What are you waiting for, then?"

Bucky heaves himself-- and Sam-- off the sofa and carries him towards the bedroom. He makes it a point to pause in the hallway and push Sam against the wall for another sloppy kiss and another roll of his hips. He wonders if Sam likes being fucked up against the wall, if Steve ever did that. Sam's thighs tighten around his waist, and he pulls Bucky's head to one side by his hair. Bucky lets his eyes close and his lips part, more for show than anything else, although he does love the feel of Sam's hands in his hair. He lets out a little moan as Sam sinks his teeth into his neck and rolls his hips again. He carries Sam into the bedroom-- _Steve's_ bedroom-- and drops down on top of him on the bed. He sits up just long enough to shuck off his own shirt.

"All right, you're both very funny, now knock it off."

His voice isn't all that steady. He's followed them into his bedroom, as planned, which is auspicious. Bucky ignores him. He unbuttons his jeans and shoves them down his hips, still kissing Sam. He's not wearing underwear, and Sam's hands release his hair so that they can squeeze his bare ass.

"Back pocket," Bucky murmurs.

Sam makes a questioning noise, but then his hand slips into Bucky's back pocket to pull out a condom.

"You fucking slut," he says, grinning.

Bucky hums in agreement, his mouth on Sam's neck. He kisses Sam again, dirty and deep, and lets out a low sound as Sam's fingertips dig into his ass. Steve inhales and then lets out a big sigh, arms crossed in front of him. Unless it's a trick of the light, he's got a semi himself.

"You wanna join us?" Bucky asks.

He flips his hair out of his eyes and looks right at Steve. His eyes go huge behind the disguise glasses, which he seems to have forgotten he's wearing. His mouth is open in a perfect, fuckable O. His fingertips dig into his arms.

"No? Suit yourself."

Sam's middle finger creeps down to tease at his ass, and Bucky bites at his lip.

"Other pocket," he says.

In the other pocket is a little tube of lube, and Sam laughs into Bucky's mouth as he opens it. When his fingers touch Bucky again, they're slick and wet and a little chilly. Bucky pushes back and then moans as Sam slips one finger into him, just a little, just enough to make him want more. He sits back on his heels, jeans still caught on his hips, and snatches the condom from Sam's hand. Sam raises his eyebrows. He tears it open, unzips Sam's pants, and pulls them down just enough to free his dick. He bites his lip and looks down at Sam as he rolls the condom onto it. Sam's watching him intently. His fingers circle and press in. Bucky lets his eyes fall closed for a moment and then takes the little tube of lube, pours the rest out onto Sam's dick and then gives it a single easy stroke. He gets up just long enough to shove his jeans off and kick them away. He can feel Steve watching them, but he keeps his eyes on Sam as he straddles him and then slowly lowers himself onto the blunt pressure of Sam's cock. It hurts a little. Sam feels huge pushing into him, and Bucky has to pause to catch his breath. When he can breathe again, he settles further, lets his head tip back and lets a moan leave his lips as Sam's dick pushes up into him, perfect and painful and hot.

"Oh, fuck, _baby_ …" Sam moans.

"Yeah, you like it?" Bucky breathes. "Good?"

"Fuck-- you're so-- Bucky-- god _damn_ \--"

Finally he bottoms out with Sam inside him up to the hilt, and he takes a deep breath to let himself relax. He circles his hips slowly. He lifts up, almost all the way off, his eyes squeezed shut, and then sinks back down again with a broken moan. He wants Steve to see him take every inch. He listens for the sound of Steve stomping away, a slamming door, but there's nothing. Sam glances over at him and then returns the full force of his attention to Bucky. His hands rest on Bucky's hips, thumbs rubbing across Bucky's hipbones in a way that's driving him up the wall.

"Oh, fuck--" Bucky gasps as Sam lifts his hips a little.

"Yeah, you like that, baby?" Sam murmurs. "You takin' every inch of my cock and lovin' it?"

Bucky nods, breathless. He wouldn't have thought Sam's voice could do things like this to him, but life's full of surprises. His dick is hard and flushed, but he knows if he touches himself it'll be over too soon. He runs his hands through his hair instead, dislodges the elastic and lets it fall away. He quickens the pace a little to feel more of the drag of Sam's cock, moans. He arches his back a little and leans back on his metal arm to get just the right angle. Sam's dick hits just right, and Bucky catches himself whimpering, moaning in earnest as Sam lifts his hips to get just a little slap of skin.

"Oh fuck, Sam… please…"

Sam moans, bucks up into him harder.

"Yes-- fuck--" Sam pants.

He closes his hand around Bucky's aching cock.

"Oh christ!" Bucky shouts. "Oh christ, fuck, Sam--"

There's a pause as Sam's cock throbs, and he comes hard inside Bucky. His hand works Bucky's dick hard and fast.

"Yes! Come on, come on me… wanna taste it…"

The words loosen the last of Bucky's hold on himself. He goes rigid, comes in spurts all over Sam's hand, his stomach, his chest. He shudders and then settles down with Sam's cock still deep inside him. He dares a glance down at Sam, who looks as fucked out as Bucky feels, gleaming with sweat and spattered with come.

"Oh, goddamn…" Sam groans. "Baby, god _damn_ …"

Bucky braces himself on his right hand and traces a metal finger through the mess on Sam's torso. Sam's hand grabs his wrist and holds it, then pulls it towards his mouth and sucks down the metal finger all the way to the knuckle. His eyes are locked on Bucky as he does it, and Bucky can feel Sam's dick give a final twitch inside him. He catches his lip between his teeth and lifts himself off Sam, drops down next to him. He looks up at Sam and drags his tongue through the mess. Sam bites his lip hard, and a second later they meet for a kiss. It tastes of Bucky and salt and Sam, and Bucky wonders distantly if this'll be the last time this ever happens. Hopes not.

Sam sits up and puts his feet on the floor. Bucky can feel him trembling. He looks over at Steve. He's still standing utterly still, agape. His dick is unmistakably hard in his jeans. Bucky tosses his hair out of his eyes and rests his chin on Sam's shoulder.

"Why don't you come over here and jerk yourself off for us? Maybe if you're real good, we'll let you play."

Steve swallows, audibly. Bucky crooks his finger at him. Steve shrugs off his jacket and tosses the glasses aside, and then he hits his hands and knees and crawls up to Sam's lap. His eyes are huge, his face flushed. Bucky's stomach rolls over as Steve leans up and licks a long swathe through the come on Sam's stomach.


End file.
